


We Are

by dvske



Series: Implicit [1]
Category: Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Gen, Implied Deaths, Implied Relationships, M/M, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvske/pseuds/dvske
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elements of intentions gone wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Are

**He is Twine.**  
Ambition, taut and tangled. Rough-spun threads, wrought together into one haphazard whole.  
He is promise given shape, firm but frayed. Hope, woven from desire and coiled ‘round the heart in grazing strokes. Hope that bends with time, thins with age, until the muscle’s laid bare. He is made of abstracts wound so tight that his bones brittle, break.  
He’s a mass of strands collapsing into a pile of tattered vines. He is rigid structure raked apart, like the city bathed in blinding white. His city, his pride, his _home —_  
Wiped clean. A blank slate, a backdrop to his decline. Everything that he once knew as whole and vivid and right.  
Unraveled.  
Undone. 

-

**He is Ember.**  
Warmth, pulsing on the skin like a brand. Sparks lingering in the air in the form of molten light, a bloodied glow. Heat simmering beneath his every word, simmering beneath a layer of need. The need to know. The need to illuminate. Ruminate. Enlighten.  
Ignite.  
He is need turned passion, filled to the brim and threatening to scald all who’d get in the way. A force fit to swallow the world as he knows it.  
The world, as he knew it.  
_He couldn’t wait any longer, he couldn’t wait, he wouldn’t…_  
His world, gone up in smoke. His world, choked. Smothered.  
And embers, neglected:  
They die. 

-

**He is Coal.**  
A lump sum of Nature’s design, pure matter compressed under the force of Her will.  
He is that which is rooted, foundations packed in a hardened shell. Decay, converted into the possibility of change. He is energy and life hidden at the core of all that makes the earth unique, all that makes it tick. Patterns and adaptions. Unfaltering strides. Then it all starts to crumble.  
Stability crumbles, and he with it.  
He is a swirl of shade and blemish, of purpose stained. Pressure intensifies, panic surfaces — _don’t let it show, don’t let them know_ — and the realization hits that it’s just him now, isn’t it? Just him. And her. And it.  
And nothing.  
And yet…  
He is the potential for new beginnings, if only fed to the flame. 

-

**She is Clay.**  
Dynamic. A creature of design, shaped by the slightest touch of whim and fancy. She is curved planes and caressed edges, molding herself to suit every occasion. Molded by every occasion. The gaze of the masses, the weight of their expectations — depended upon and dependent on her façade.  
She is fluidity. A current shifting at a moment’s notice, seeping into every crack and crevice left exposed. Motion, as swift as the way the city transforms itself at the public’s beck and call. Kindred souls, she and the city.  
Kindred souls, until it splinters.  
She splinters, trapped by her cause, trapped by her folly. An inevitable rift — a tide of blue and red — that mars the mask, leaves her in shambles.  
Shattered.  
Formless.  
_…Finally._


End file.
